Melting into Rain
by A September Rose
Summary: [WeissKreuz&Saiyuki] Prologue to the Nachtregen epic. The history of the “Saiyuki” assassin team, set in the world of WK. How they became the men they are today, changed by bloody deaths and rainy nights. [Gonou's story now up.]
1. Gojyo's Story

Disclaimer: Weiss is property of Koyasu Takehito. Saiyuki is property of Minekura Kazuya. I am not either one of these people. This is my first major crossover, which was inspired by reading some excellent fanfiction by many other talented authors and the simple "What if..." that starts almost all of these sorts of things. While I tried to keep things as close as possible to how they actually are in their own universes, some creative liberties have been taken regarding timelines and backstories in this 'verse.

Special Thanks: Shinnonekochan for introducing me to Weiss, for being my super Hakkai-beta, correcting all of my awful grammar, and not ripping her hair out in the process. Sankyuu naa!

Melting into Rain

Part 1: Gojyo's Story

-14 Years Ago, Tokyo, Japan-

The narrow apartment complex almost hung over into the street, painted a faded, dirty white and creaking with the icy November wind. Dogs barked in vain somewhere down the street and there was evidence that the entire neighborhood was a frequent home to crime and poverty. The streets were empty aside from a few old cars parked on the sides, and graffiti-covered dumpsters lined either side of the building. Sirens blared briefly in the distance. All in all, it was not the most welcoming place to live.

One of the bottom apartments' windows glowed eerily with the unmistakable flicker of a television set. They were one of the rare families in the area that had a TV here, at least, one that hadn't been stolen yet. A teenage boy sat on a worn-out brown couch, remote dangling freely from his hand. His eyes were unfocused – no matter what channel he'd turned to, the TV was the last thing on his mind.

The sirens were getting closer. He closed his eyes and sighed, running a hand through his short dark brown hair. 'I hope he got away alright.' His feet shifted on the coffee table, giving away his fear of touching the floor.

After all, it was dark and sticky with freshly spilled blood…

-One Hour Earlier-

"Is Mom coming home tonight?"

Sha Jien stopped in the middle of rummaging through the refrigerator at the voice of his younger brother. He closed the door and was faced with what looked like the most hopeful expression he'd ever seen.

"Don't know, kid," he answered, hoping Gojyo wouldn't realize he'd begun to lose himself in his own thoughts. "She's been real busy lately, you remember that."

The younger boy's red hair still managed to shine under the dim kitchen lights and Jien always felt his heart stop when he looked into those matching blood-red eyes. Truly, Gojyo never realized just how haunting those colors were.

Gojyo always mistook it for derision when others looked at his features that way, but the elder of the two knew the kid was constantly viewed as something exotic and beautiful -- he'd have women all over him once he got a little older.

"Yeah." Gojyo's eyes were now staring down at the cracked kitchen tile. "I just wanted to apologize to her for yesterday…"

Jien's breath caught and he mentally cursed himself for that day. He had just gotten home from his part time job to hear screaming coming from inside the apartment. He'd flung the door open only to find red flowers scattered across the floor and their mother standing over his little brother, pulling his hair, with tears streaming down her face. This was a common scene in their home, as hard as Jien tried to stop it.

Jien would always pry their mother away as best he could, shaking her until she recognized his face and stopped her hysterics. Gojyo always remained crumpled on the stained carpet, or curled in a ball and shaking until she left the room. The boy always blamed himself for their conflicts, never realizing just how sick the woman actually was.

Jien decided he had to distract Gojyo – and himself – from thinking about that incident. "You get all your homework done already?" However, Jien found that even though he was making small talk, his mind unwillingly continued on to other things.

The touchiest and most frequent subject he dwelled on was their mother. She'd hated the younger boy since his birth. Her husband, Jien's father, was always out of the home, always traveling abroad, leaving her with a young boy to take care of.

Outside of Jien's memories, Gojyo shrugged. "Nah, guess I'll work on it now." He then moved to the table in the corner of the kitchen, mindful of one of its loose legs. A few schoolbooks soon littered the table with the redheaded boy bent over them, humming a bit in time with the movements of his pencil.

Alone in his thoughts, Jien was left busying himself with getting ingredients out of the refrigerator. It was already nearing five o'clock, meaning that Gojyo was probably starving. As he put together a sandwich, Jien couldn't help but remember more about what had changed in his brother's short life.

During the winter following Jien's tenth birthday, his father returned home with an extra family member. Jien was sent into the other room for the initial conversation, but for years afterwards, as his mother descended into the madness of her hatred, he managed to learn the whole story whenever she would happen to trap him for a conversation.

It turned out that after some explaining - rather, matter-of-fact stating - his father had told his mother that there had been a mistress "in Europe somewhere" and they'd had a child together. His father's last trip there had been so that he could be with her when she gave birth. A mere two weeks later, she'd died from complications brought on by the delivery and the baby, named Gojyo, was brought back to Japan.

Jien vividly remembered the events of Gojyo's first week in the family, as it was the one when his happy world cracked down the middle. The first thing to trouble him was the manner in which his mother regarded the baby: she would not even touch the newborn, as if it was diseased. Were it not for the young boy taking care of his brother, Gojyo would've died. Stress did not even begin to describe Jien's life at that point. He was expected to be a perfect elementary school student and not tell anyone that he was parenting his baby brother. Things only got worse a few years later… when his father suddenly died.

If Jien's life had been cracked before, this completely shattered it. Gojyo was still in his toddler years at the time and still very much in need of care. Jien ended up having a breakdown at school one day, not being able to take control of his anxiety over his brother. He remained in that state for the rest of the day.

"Whatcha doin', Jien?"

His little brother's voice once again dragged him out of the depths of his musings. He realized he'd been staring at the plate on the counter without actually making anything. He laughed and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly as he replied to Gojyo. "Making you dinner. Guess I just spaced out for a second."

"Ah, 'kay." The simple answer seemed to pacify the young boy, the blood-red hair once again flowing in front of his face as he bent over his paper. Jien's vision was lost in that hair, reminding him of how things had only gotten worse.

Around Gojyo's fourth birthday, about six months after their father's death, things took a turn for the worse. The money their father had left for them was gone and their mother had spiraled down into alcohol and drugs, out every night and sometimes not returning for days. A neighbor had cared for Jien and Gojyo during those times, but she had never once called the police about the situation. It was right around that time that they moved. The bank repossessed the house and Jien's broken home was shifted to an equally broken neighborhood.

Gojyo started school in the new district, where he was constantly mocked for being a "half-breed." His hair and eyes, unnatural even among the few foreign students, made him an instant outsider. Thus, he frequently got into fights. That would've been enough to worry about on its own, but he also became a target of the school's bullies. It was a common sight for Jien to find Gojyo waiting for him on the porch when he got home from high school, afraid to enter the house until his older brother walked in with him.

Back in the kitchen, Gojyo kept glancing up at the wall clock. This struck Jien as peculiar until he noticed the time himself. **She** was going to be home sometime tonight, and Gojyo's fear was palpable.

That was the reason Gojyo waited for him outside. The year Gojyo started school also marked the year their mother started to pay attention to him, though not in the way Jien had hoped. She seemed to be doing better with him out of the house, but it wasn't long before she noticed him coming home from school one day and then, in a haze of grief and wine, she lunged for him. She screamed at him for being the reason they lived in the slum-like apartment. She knocked the little boy to the ground, threatening to stab his eyes out and yank out his hair, because they were probably "**her** fault," using all sorts of names for the woman who'd given birth to the redhead. Jien was nowhere near strong enough to stop her, but a well-placed slap had momentarily gotten her back to her senses… what remained of them at any rate.

The abuse was an almost daily occurrence. Gojyo began to desperately seek her approval, bringing her gifts, being overly obedient, and taking responsibility for any wrong that happened in her life. From the way Jien saw Gojyo react, it was almost as if he told her to hit him, if that would make her pain go away. That had been the pattern for more than 3 years now. Recently, though, Jien saw the same look in Gojyo's eyes almost every day.

Jien was jerked back to his surroundings as he noticed a bruise forming around Gojyo's right eye. "Who did that to you?" he asked, his voice coming out softly. He heard a car driving down the street and quickly prayed it wasn't their mother - perhaps she'd found some guy to go home with tonight.

Gojyo pulled away from Jien's touch, crossing his arms defensively in front of him. "None of your business. Anyway, I won that fight."

"I know you probably did, but I still want to know who did it and why."

The red eyes were blazing defiance. For an eight year old, Gojyo hardly possessed any of the innocence common for that age. "What does it matter? Who do you think you are, my dad?" After a moment of silence, his expression softened. "Fine. It was that shit-head, Jin. Called me a 'gaijin' and told me to go back where I came from. I told **him** to go back -- he's half-Chinese, the bastard."

"Gojyo…" Jien tried to keep the disappointed tone out of his voice. "You have to stop getting into fights like this; it's not good if-" He suddenly stopped as he heard the doorknob turning. 'Shit. She **is** home.' He instinctively put himself between his brother and the door. He felt a hand grip his arm.

Gojyo's voice suddenly became tentative. "She's… gonna be herself tonight, right?" There was one memory he clung to where she'd taken them out for ice cream… Where she'd laughed and smiled… Where she'd called Gojyo by name and not hit him or screamed at him once the whole evening. There were rare instances like those when they acted like a real family, but they could be counted on one hand.

"Jien?" The woman's low voice echoed in the entryway. "Jien, are you home? Mommy's missed you so much..." The older boy grimaced. Even when he had been little, she'd never used that kind of baby talk. It was another sign of how far her mental illness had progressed.

"Yeah, I'm here, Mom," he replied, glancing back quickly at his forgotten brother, who had folded in on himself quite impressively. Gojyo was always attempting to make himself as small as possible, as if he was trying to shrink from her sight. "Did you drink at all tonight?" 'Please say no, please, no.'

She rounded the corner, one of the straps of her dress falling down and a lop-sided smile on her face. "I'm the parent, Jien, I can look after myself. Now, go get food." A bill was shoved into his hand as he stared at it. This was barely enough to buy something for all of them. He supposed that his only choice was that rundown fast food place on the corner.

"For all… three of us?" he ventured. He had to judge what state of mind she was in before he left her alone with his younger brother. She nodded and insisted that he go. He quickly turned to Gojyo, who was biting his lip, and whispered quickly, "Go to your room and lock your door until I get back." The situation was still too ambiguous for him to tell if he could trust her tonight.

Shaking, Gojyo did as he was told, padding down the hallway to his room.

Jien waited until he heard the click of the lock and looked back at his mother, who seemed to not have noticed the whole exchange. "I'll be back in about fifteen minutes."

Jien had never hurried so fast in his life. The food seemed to take forever to finish and he got back at such a speed that he was outrunning cars as they drove down the street. Yet, as he reached for the door, he felt his stomach twist at the noise from within.

She was screaming and crying, cursing something and then there were some loud thuds.

Jien's eyes widened. 'Why the hell did Gojyo come out of his room?'

The door was locked and, in his haste, Jien hadn't taken his keys with him. The pounding noises got louder and he barely heard a small cry that he immediately recognized as his brother.

"Mom… please! Mom, I'm sorry!"

Tears stinging his eyes, everything fled from Jien's mind except for saving Gojyo. He scanned around and noticed the shed behind the apartment complex was open. Rummaging around in it for a minute found him an axe, which he was soon swinging at the door, hacking away at it until he could reach the lock inside. He forgot to drop it and ran through the entryway, then to the living room.

The one thing he focused on was the blood. The red wormed its way into his brain and he trailed it to two open wounds on Gojyo's left cheek. Their mother was above him, striking him over and over with broken nails, crying. Her blows kept landing on those same wounds, deepening them until the skin had broken. That's when Jien saw the expression on his brother's face.

Gojyo's body went slack; he closed his eyes and waited. His mouth moved, forming the words, "It's ok."

The next thing Jien knew, a lifeless body fell to the ground.

Gojyo slowly opened his eyes and they swept up in uncertainty to his older brother. The blade of the axe was coated in blood, which was dripping down onto their mother's body.

Jien couldn't stop himself. The tears were freely flowing now as the axe fell from his hand. He hated his existence more than anything at that moment. "Gojyo-" His voice came out choked. 'I killed my mother. My own mother -- I **murdered** her.' "Run."

"W-what?" The red-haired boy continued to stare at the body. He once again began to shake.

Jien stepped over their mother to pull Gojyo to his feet. "I love you, bro, now… run," he said as he pushed Gojyo toward the door. When the boy continued to stare at him dazedly, Jien had no choice but to yell. "RUN AWAY!" he roared.

Gojyo's eyes widened, but he skittered off.

-+-

Now, here he was. He'd called the police in his state of shock, after making sure his brother was nowhere on the premises. He listened to the sirens as they stopped right in front of his house before turning off the TV.

"I guess it's time."


	2. Kouryuu's Story

Disclaimer: See ch1.

Thanks again: Shinnonekochan, faithful beta and fixer of the dreaded "and"-itis I have.

A/N: Here begin the numerous cameos in the series. Try and catch them - it's fun. I know, still no WK, but there is a brief mention in the next chapter. This whole story is mainly about how Saiyuki got together, so just hang on through the back-story first!

Part 2: Kouryuu's Story

-10 Years Ago, New York City-

Two men were seated near the window in a small restaurant. The two fresh cups of coffee they had just been served helped to temper the chill from the cold November air outside.

"It's been years, hasn't it, Ambassador?" the older of the two mused. His Japanese had gotten better since they'd last talked face-to-face, at least in his opinion.

The ambassador offered a soft smile. His graying hair was tied back in a long ponytail, which barely moved as he turned to stare out the window of the restaurant. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft and deliberate. "It's hard to believe we haven't seen each other since your award ceremony. It's just so hard to escape from D.C."

"I imagine," the businessman returned. "So there has to be a good explanation as to why you call me up after all these years, wanting my key to the old group center. It's all offices now, you know."

The ambassador turned back to look at his friend, eyes containing amusement. "Didn't think I'd get by without you interrogating me, Mr. Grouse."

"What are friends for?"

"Truth be told, I was hoping to show Kouryuu around the place," the ambassador said, stirring his coffee with his spoon. "It's a surprise for his 13th birthday. The adoption is finally being processed. Even with all your help as director, they never stopped giving me a hard time about both of my citizenships…"

"I told you it would take a long time, but wasn't it well worth the wait?" the businessman asked as the waitress came around to refill their cups. She stared a bit nervously at the two bodyguards sitting nearby before handing her customers their bill. The ambassador reached for it, but Grouse picked it up first. "Don't worry about it, Mr. Sanzo. My treat."

"Well, thank you very much," the ambassador, Koumyou Sanzo, replied. He stood up slowly, not touching the newly made coffee. "Sorry to cut this short, but I don't want to leave Kouryuu alone in the hotel for too long. He still hates being on his own, no matter how much he tries to convince me I embarrass him by hanging around."

"That attitude sounds familiar," Mr. Grouse commented. "Do you remember Hazel at all? He's become quite vocal about how 'uncool' I am now," he added with a wink. Then, he reached inside his pocket. "Forgetting something, Koumyou?" He held up a gold key between his thumb and index finger.

"Of course. This must be a bi-product of my old age." The two men shared a knowing laugh. After grabbing the key, Koumyou wished his old friend luck and headed out. The bodyguards accompanied him outside to his waiting limo, where he spent the rest of the ride wondering how the evening would turn out.

-+-

Once at the hotel, he found his foster son parked in front of the TV, flipping channels with a look of disinterest on his face. "How did that song go? '67 channels and nothing on?'"

Kouryuu glanced up at him with brilliant purple eyes. "What are you talking about? You know what, never mind, I'm just glad you're back - you said something about seeing the city together?"

"Right, right, so I did." Koumyou gave him a quick hug and noticed the typical reaction of the boy to squirm away from the affection. 'Ah, teenagers,' he supposed. "We're leaving tomorrow, so did you have anything in mind you'd like to do? Last night was the Statue of Liberty, right?"

"Nothing in particular," Kouryuu said, but he was already getting up to put on his shoes. "Wherever you want to go. You would know better than me."

"In that case, would you like to go and see where you used to live?" Koumyou pulled out a key. "That's why I went to see Mr. Grouse. You remember him, right, the old director of your group home? He was the one that introduced us."

Kouryuu's mouth dropped slightly. "**That** was the 'old friend' you went to see?" Memories came flooding back of his father's friend, one of the only people he remembered being nice to him while Kouryuu was bouncing around the foster system. All of the other workers were quick to write him off as a behavioral problem, but Mr. Grouse never gave up on him. He was the one who always used to tell the small boy that someday, someone would come for him who'd love him more than he could possibly imagine. That someone turned out to be Koumyou.

"Exactly," his father said. "I know we don't talk too much about what happened when I started taking care of you, but I think it'd be interesting to see what they've done with the place." He winked. "I'll even get you a souvenir after this… something from Times Square."

While the short blonde teenager admitted that he was curious as well, the place they were going to visit didn't have the best memories connected to it. He'd never really fit in with the other children; he was frequently returned to the center since all the families he was placed with would inevitably decide they couldn't handle a "problem child."

Koumyou had been the exception. At the age of six, he'd gone with the man warily, not knowing what sort of life he'd have. He quickly learned that for even as busy as the ambassador was, he seemed to spend twice as much time with his new foster son. Kouryuu had never been able to trust the other families, but Koumyou worked with him everyday, played with him and gave him affection, and soon, the boy began to return the gestures. Along with Kouryuu's private tutor, Shuuei, Koumyou ensured that the boy was at the proper academic and social level for his age within three years. Kouryuu knew that Koumyou made him feel safer and more loved than he'd ever been in his life.

Kouryuu often thought that if all adults behaved like his father, the world would be free of conflict.

The two ventured out, amidst the darkening clouds overhead, with the bodyguards never far behind. After years of practice though, Kouryuu found them easy to ignore. Once they reached the building, he saw that it had guards at every entrance, in addition to the two that followed them inside. Koumyou always waved it away as overkill, but the men were paid to do a good job, and they were unparalleled in skill.

Inside, even though offices made up the entire building, it was easy to place things back to the way they were. Kouryuu quickly found the 2nd-story room that used to be Mr. Grouse's office, his memory returning to the place he'd run to whenever he was in trouble, and the place where he and Koumyou had first met.

His foster father placed a hand on his shoulder comfortingly as they stood in the doorway. "It was the happiest day of my life when you came to live with me."

A muffled noise behind them stopped Kouryuu from replying and he looked to the bodyguards, who must've sensed it as well.

"Hey, did you hear something?" one bodyguard asked the other.

"Yeah, I'll go check it out," the second replied before walking off.

"Okay, well, just watch your back."

Koumyou, seemingly unconcerned, was now withdrawing a package from somewhere. He handed it to Kouryuu, beaming at him. "I lied about the souvenir, but I got you something better, seeing as it's your birthday.

"I hope that someday you decide to follow in my shoes, though I know I can't force you," he explained.

Kouryuu slowly removed something soft from the paper wrappings. It was green and white and rolled up. Upon unfurling it slightly, he saw that it had fancy writing on it in a foreign language.

"That is a Buddhist sutra. I know we don't practice that faith, but this has been in my family for hundreds of years. It's technically called the Maten Sutra – it means 'to bind the darkness.' All those with the name Sanzo have protected it over the years."

"All with the name…" Kouryuu felt his eyes water. "What does that mean?" All those years he'd spent hoping against hope for the man to adopt him... 'Has he finally decided to do it?' It was the one thing that stung him… that he'd never been given his father's last name due to the man's hesitation in adopting him. "What are you…?"

"I was saving it as a surprise for your birthday, so now I can tell you: The adoption is finally going through. I can now change your name as part of the process. You can officially become a Sanzo and I can give you the name I'd originally picked out for you." Koumyou smiled. "By the way, that sutra is yours to keep, until you pass it on to your descendants. I never had a child of my own, nor do I have siblings, but I consider you as much a part of me as any blood relative, maybe more so."

"Father… I…" Kouryuu's throat had gone dry. His fingers could only rub over the soft fabric of the sutra as it sunk in further that he'd just been entrusted with this heirloom. "I don't know what to say." He jumped when a raindrop landed on his shoulder. One quick look outside told them a slight drizzle had begun and that there appeared to be a small hole in the roof. "It leaked back when I lived here too… they never fixed it."

Koumyou smiled and opened his mouth to reply, but stopped when both heard a strangled noise from behind them. Whirling around, the ambassador put his son behind him, eyes narrowed in rare seriousness.

Kouryuu let out a gasp as he saw the remaining bodyguard fall to the ground, the man's throat slit and gushing blood. The teenager began to shake and Koumyou's breathing was labored. 'Who in the world could take out two specially trained guards without a single noise?' Kouryuu wondered.

Several figures appeared in the shadows around them, their soft laughter echoing. "Koumyou Sanzo, right?" a voice asked in somewhat accented Japanese.

"Father…" Kouryuu whispered, feeling like his heart was right in his throat. Koumyou muttered something harshly under his breath that sounded like "get ready." Kouryuu just stood there, dumbfounded until Koumyou grabbed his wrist and yanked the boy through an opening in the line of men, straight through the doorway and down the hall.

Blood was rushing in Kouryuu's ears; he could barely hear his father speaking as they dashed over to the stairs. He heard words like "safe" and "public place," though he couldn't be sure. All of a sudden, Kouryuu's eyes began to ache. He could only focus on the hand pulling him along – everything else was confusion, panic, and fear.

Koumyou must not have been thinking clearly, either… he led his son down an alternate flight of stairs to a hallway full of locked doors. He cursed under his breath and leaned down to Kouryuu's level, trying to erase all emotion from his features. "Kouryuu, do you see that room there?" He pointed to the last door at the very end. "We can hide in here, but I don't think it will last too long." He pulled the boy through the door, locking it behind them. "We don't have too much time, so I want to tell you something about that sutra…"

"Not much time…" Kouryuu's eyes were watering; he couldn't help it. They still hurt, too, and he had no idea why. Every noise in the dark room seemed amplified, making him jump every time something echoed.

Koumyou tried to smile, to reassure his son, even though his eyes darted to the window streaked with raindrops. "Listen, Kouryuu. Do you know that Buddhist priests used to wear those sutras around their shoulders? Do you know why?"

"Father!" Kouryuu protested. This was no time for a history lesson! His head was now pounding along with his eyes aching, while something inside was insistently whispering about danger.

"The sutra represents the weight of one's karma," Koumyou went on, as if his son hadn't said anything. His eyes kept darting to the doorknob. Both could hear footsteps rushing down the hall. "As long as you never lose sight of yourself, Kouryuu, even you can handle such a burden."

Kouryuu was about to answer, ready to plead with his father, when the door burst, falling off its hinges. One of the thugs leapt over the broken door and slammed Koumyou to the wall. Kouryuu now had tears freely running down his face.

"Sorry… not that easy."

Kouryuu had never heard his father's voice so harsh. Koumyou shot out his arm, hitting the thug square in the gut. The man stumbled away, but another took his place, drawing closer with a knife of his own with a predatory look in his eyes.

"Please, no…" Kouryuu heard himself beg, but he felt so far away. 'This can't be happening, it couldn't! Why would anyone want to hurt my father? He's never done anything wrong to anyone!'

Koumyou had now placed himself between the attacker and his son. He stretched out his arms in front of Kouryuu, chest rising and falling unsteadily. As the new thug drew closer, the rest poured into the room. They were all smirking and laughing softly to themselves. There were maybe about 6 of them altogether, making Kouryuu's stomach twist and his temples pound, adrenaline rushing through his entire body.

As the knife came down, Kouryuu heard a sickening slashing noise. Koumyou had blocked the blow with his upper arm, which now had a steak of blood trickling down it. He struggled with his attacker, still attempting to talk.

"Be strong, Kouryuu. Never forget what I told you," Koumyou called, pushing the man away briefly. "I'm sorry, it's… Genjyo Sanzo, isn't it?" He spoke Kouryuu's formal name for the first time, just as the attacker rushed him. "Open the window… Get out of-"

Kouryuu closed his eyes. The pain was too much. He could see a bright light behind his eyelids, could hear screams and expletives as the entire building was engulfed with a surge of energy. He could see writing in his mind, similar to that on the sutra, and the characters overflowed into boundless strength, until he fell to his knees, exhausted.

He waited until the light faded. The next time he opened his eyes, which weren't hurting anymore, it was silent, with the exception of the rain, which was now pounding outside. The room was dark, but once his eyes adjusted, he noticed that the bodies of the killers were all around. No one was moving. Then, he noticed the figure lying before him. Koumyou was facedown in front of him, still and growing cold. Blood was everywhere. Ignoring the fact that the thugs were dead, Kouryuu pressed his ear to his father's mouth, listening desperately for breath and hearing none. He next felt for a pulse; also nothing. "Father?

"Father?" His voice became more tinged with fear. He felt a rising hysteria. "Father?!" Again there was no response.

"FATHER!!"

-+-

The next time Kouryuu awoke, he was in a hospital. More bodyguards were posted outside the door and he saw a doctor looking over him with concern. "Kouryuu?" the doctor asked hesitantly. A translator sat nearby.

Memories came flooding back, making Kouryuu's violet eyes well with tears. "I… I couldn't…"

"Shh," the doctor attempted, patting the teenager's arm.

The translator attempted to express the doctor's sentiments as best he could. "It's not your fault. You and the ambassador were attacked. There was nothing you could've done." His efforts appeared to fall on deaf ears.

"I couldn't p- protect him," Kouryuu blurted out, tears beginning to spill down his cheeks. "He died because I couldn't protect him!" He immediately started to thrash about, pushing against the doctor until one of the nurses grabbed his arm and administered a sedative. "C- couldn't…" His eyes fluttered closed and his breathing soon slowed to a resting level.

Outside, a Japanese man dressed in a business suit was arguing in English on his cell phone, ignoring several attempts by nurses to tell him that it was against hospital rules to make calls. He ran a hand through his long black hair, which was pulled back into a low ponytail. "Do you have any idea how much of a national issue this is going to be? An ambassador to your country gets killed IN your country, attacked by some… hired goons! They killed two bodyguards and one of the most important figures in US-Japan relations today! How is this going to reflect on your country?!"

"I'd look at the evidence if I were you," a voice on the other end replied, clearly frustrated with the other man's tone. "Five men, in addition to the ambassador, were found dead with no visible injuries. If they did kill him, why was the boy left alive? It's something to consider that maybe the boy had something to do with it. With that in mind, the situation is too unclear to blame on the whole United States."

"How can you possibly blame a 13-year old boy for this?" The Japanese man was almost rabid. "He had no weapon! You're insinuating that he murdered his own father!" Suddenly, a woman's hand grabbed the cell phone from his hand. The man, still enraged from his conversation, spun around, ready to punch whoever had just interrupted his tirade.

Her black hair was pulled up in a high ponytail and she wore an entirely white dress with a low neckline. A solid gold choker encircled her throat, which was matched by two gold bracelets and earrings. The woman's dark eyes locked with the man's as she clicked the off button on the phone.

"Just who the hell--?" He was cut off as a well-manicured hand waved him into silence.

The woman inspected the ID hanging from the man's suit pocket. "Well, now… Shuuei-san? Your way of handling things is entirely too frantic. I'll take it from here."

"What--?" Shuuei didn't get to finish. Her eyes met his once more and his head spun. Suddenly, he collapsed onto a nearby chair. An older man at her side set the cell phone she had grabbed down in Shuuei's hand.

"Wasn't that rather rude, to erase his memories like that, Madam?" the older man tried not to reprimand his boss and his eyes widened as she stared hard at him, smirk spreading over her lips.

"Ah, Jiroushin," she remarked, heading for the room where Kouryuu slept. "No one got hurt, and soon, we'll have the kid back in Japan."

Keeping everyone **else** away was the easy part. That left the two alone in Kouryuu's room when he awoke.

Kouryuu blinked a few times, confusion overwhelming his grief for the moment. "Who… who are you?" he asked upon seeing the strange woman and her attendant by his bedside.

"My name is Kanzeon," she told him, her voice soothing, gently taking his hand and removing the IV as painlessly as she could. "We're getting you out of here and taking you back to Japan."

"But…" The violet eyes quivered. "Father…"

Jiroushin had co-opted a wheelchair and he attempted to coax Kouryuu into a sitting position to get him over to it while his boss spoke to the boy.

"Right, we know all about that." Kanzeon tried to sound as sincere as possible. "You still have his sutra, don't you?"

Kouryuu started, his hand grabbing for the fabric where it lay on a nearby nightstand.

She settled him into the wheelchair, even as he clung to the sutra. "I know you're probably very confused about what happened last night, but you have to trust that we'll help you."

Jiroushin started to push the wheelchair and Kanzeon walked beside it.

Kouryuu was still foggy from the sedative, but it seemed that he was starting to come out of it. "What happened in that building? What…did I do?"

"You did what you needed to do to survive," Kanzeon tried to explain. "You're very special, boy. You have abilities other people only **dream** of having. We're going to help you control those 'talents.'"

Kouryuu glanced down at his hands clutching the sutra in his lap. "Abilities? What kind of abilities?"

"That's what we have to figure out." Kanzeon directed the chair into the elevator. No one would remember the three of them leaving the hospital, or anyone but the boy being on that floor in the first place. "Once we do, you can develop and control them to your liking - maybe even use them to get those kinds of monsters off the street."

Kouryuu watched the numbers light up in turn as the elevator continued to descend. "My father was killed for no reason. He was stolen from me. If I had only had the ability to protect myself, I could've stopped them..." His tone was cold, almost monotone. "I never want to be helpless again. If the training makes me stronger, I'll do whatever you want."

Kanzeon moved to take the wheelchair from Jiroushin as the elevator doors opened on the ground floor. "Good," she said. "So, from this day forth, you work for me. Do you understand, Kouryuu?"

The violet eyes continued to shine with determination as they wheeled him out the front doors of the hospital. "Kouryuu's dead. From now on, it's Genjyo Sanzo."

'I'll never forget what they did to you, Father. Never.'


	3. Goku's Story

Notes: Yay for Saiyuki Gaiden. Also yay for our first WK appearance!

Glossary: botchan – "young master"

Nii-chan – affectionate term for "older brother" or brother-figure

Chapter 3: Goku's Story

_Son Goku's memories were dominated by smells. Everything he knew had some kind of odor connected to it - some pleasant, others not so pleasant. Blood was a frequent smell in the beginning; so was the stench of garbage. But he hadn't had to smell those things for very long._

_Konzen smelled like soap. The tall, haughty blonde had scoffed when Goku tried to tell him that, but there was really no other explanation. Konzen was so clean and meticulous; the only noticeable scent following him was a hint of ivory soap. _

_Goku also thought Konzen was the embodiment of sunlight. No one he ever saw in his lifetime had that brilliant golden hair that beckoned the boy to reach out and grasp strands of it in his fingers. Konzen hated people touching his long ponytail, but his expression would soften – just a little bit – when Goku did it… just as long as he didn't tug._

_Ken-nii-chan smelled like cherry blossoms, under a veil of smoke. Goku never saw the man without a cigarette between his teeth, short black hair falling over his eyes as he played with Goku. Konzen would give him endless grief for exposing the child to tobacco, but Ken-nii-chan always just smiled and promised to never do it again… never keeping his word._

_Goku got to go on adventures with his 'big brother' all the time. He loved sitting on the older man's shoulders as they traveled through town, marveling at everything he saw. It was Ken-nii-chan who taught him how to fight, who showed him how to make Konzen feel better when he got in one of his moods, and who would always sneak Goku candy and toys when he was technically 'in trouble.'_

_Ten-chan smelled like paper. The man loved his books, so he could usually be found buried in a pile of them in his office. Like Ken, he was usually found with a cigarette in his mouth too, but he had a bit more sense to keep them away when he was interacting with the boy. As a result, the smell of tobacco was much lighter on him than Ken. Ten-chan would always stand out in Goku's mind because of the stark white lab coat he wore, the way his eyes sparkled when he was interested in something, and for how soft his short brown hair was._

_Ten-chan taught Goku to read when the boy was very small. He gave him history lessons, math instruction, and made sure to adjust to Goku's level of understanding; he would give him as much time as he needed to learn it. Ten-chan made Goku feel smart. Outside of the classroom, the older man was always willing to take the boy out to eat, to talk to him when he was confused or down, and offer advice on almost every subject._

_Goku loved his three guardians and he never doubted that they loved him back. That was, until the day they disappeared. It was a blur in his mind as to how it happened. One minute, he was enjoying his happy home life; the next he knew, he was alone, cold, and scared._

"_Goku?" He recalled the concern in Konzen's voice the last time he'd seen the blond. A strange man had come to the place they'd called home and now he was demanding the three older men come with him. "We'll be back soon, I promise." Konzen patted the boy on his head, momentarily flattening the wild, spiky brown hair. Goku's large golden eyes followed Konzen out of the room, but all the boy could do was nod._

_A few hours passed and there was nothing. Then a few days passed and Goku ran out of food. But the growling of his stomach was nothing compared to the fear that enveloped him, along with the house's overwhelming lack of all those familiar smells. He'd called for those three for what felt like forever. He cried… a lot. But no matter how long or how hard he begged for Konzen and the others to return, they never did._

_His consciousness drifted in and out over the next few years as he took up residence in the forest near his old town. His hair and nails grew longer and he felt closer to the animals of the woods than other humans. He learned to catch and kill his own prey, giving in to the madness that was slowly overwhelming him._

_Not that he minded – if he couldn't remember anything, he wouldn't feel any pain._

People in the town spoke of a monster that lived in the forest, some half-beast, half-child abomination that attacked humans who entered his territory. No one minded in the slightest when a group of scientists offered to capture him and take away the threat. The town was relieved that the feral child had been removed and no one asked about where he'd been taken, or why.

-+-

-8 Years Ago, Hong Kong-

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Mr. Takatori?" Li Touten sat back in his leather chair, its joints squeaking softly. The Chinese businessman knew very well what the younger Japanese man was doing in his office, but he had to keep up appearances and show deference to a representative of his 'esteemed clientele'.

Takatori Masafumi folded his hands in front of him and rested them on Li's desk. "Your business is one of the fastest growing corporations in Asia, how could the Takatori family not take notice of your latest accomplishments? In fact, one of them seems similar to a… 'pet project' of mine."

"Ah, word travels fast,'" Li replied, not surprised by Masafumi's explanation in the least. "I figured it was only a matter of time before someone came calling. You're interested in our 'pharmaceutical' department, correct?" This was an easy cover for getting around government regulations. No one had to know what the department was really paid to do, other than 'experiments.'

"Exactly," Masafumi leaned forward, silently urging Li to do the same. "I've become especially interested in these people you have dubbed 'talents.' I understand you have a few of those in your department."

Li let a hint of a smile show on his face. One of the Takatori wanted his freaks, did he? For the past 5 years, those with supernatural abilities were discovered and taken from the mainland on a regular basis, for product testing. Li's employees were easily able to bribe government inspectors when they saw just what those so-called 'humans' were really capable of.

'_Like that one that could super-heat his body enough to melt metal, what did he call himself? Homura or something? Now he's just broken - another failure of an experiment that we had to lock away like the rest of them._' "I'm not interested in talking sales," he informed the Takatori son sharply. "They're barely worth as much as regular ones." '_These days, the regular human trafficking is something to worry about a little more, but at least the return is higher for the risk_.'

"That's too bad." Masafumi played with his tie a bit. "I was really looking forward to sharing technology and breakthroughs…" He stopped abruptly as the door to the office opened. "I thought you said no interruptions!" he snapped under his breath.

Li's eyes went up to the door, ready to murder whoever had barged in on them, but stopped himself as a young boy in a loose blue robe approached the desk. His long black hair was tied back in several strands and his dark eyes were shining even as he attempted to apologize. "I'm sorry to bother you, Father, but I've finished all my schoolwork for today, so can I go play? There are some new kids in the lab and I want to see if any of them-"

Li cut the boy off, "You're interrupting something very important, Nataku." He turned to Takatori, almost sounding apologetic, "My son." He glared back at the boy. "Now, run along," he commanded.

Nataku looked a tiny bit sheepish now after being reprimanded, light yellow eyes dimming slightly.

"Besides, you know I told you not to bother anyone in the lab," Li continued, "Don't you have friends from school if you want to play with someone?"

-+-

'_It's useless_.' Nataku sighed and left the office, dragging his feet a bit. He wondered if every father was as uptight as his own. Always talking about some stupid business or another, never having time to play with his son. '_Telling me not to play in the lab! That's where all the interesting people are!_'

He marched down there – two floors and a long hallway – promptly, as if to prove his father wrong. The Homura guy was no fun to play with anymore; he just sat in his cell all day, staring at the chains on his hands and mumbling a woman's name, 'Rinrei' or some such nonsense. Nataku was bored with trying to force him out of his shell.

A loud roar erupted from the lab at such a volume that it made the doors at the entrance rattle. Nataku's eyes widened and he peeked in through the crack in the door to get a look.

The scientists, one female and two male, looked like they were wrestling with a monster. A small human-like creature with extremely long brown hair was dressed in a sleeveless purple shirt and dirty tan pants. He was barefoot, growling, and glaring at the scientists with bright golden eyes. Nataku had never seen such a color before… well, except for one of Homura's eyes, but both of them were on this being. The young man was instantly curious.

After struggling a bit longer, they forced handcuffs onto its wrists, which were connected by a long chain. The ankles were chained in a similar way, but that didn't stop the thing from lunging out at them every chance it had.

The new experiment was shoved back into a holding cell, after which all of the scientists began attending to the various bites and scratches it'd given them. Nataku threw open the doors and ran up to the cell, bubbling over. "What's this? What is he?"

"Please stay back, Li-_botchan_," the one female scientist replied. Everyone who worked for Li Touten knew of his young son and that anyone who allowed the heir to Li's business to be harmed would lose more than just their job. "He's been pumped full of sedatives and he still moves like that. He's a feral child that was found on the mainland."

"He put two of our people in the hospital when we tried to capture him," a male scientist added. "The last thing we want is for him to harm you. Number 1350¹ is the most dangerous subject we've dealt with yet."

"1350" spit at them from the holding cell. The brilliant golden eyes seemed to narrow at the demeaning number now attached to his person, but he could not do more than snarl in response. He raked his claws against the bars, producing a screeching sound that made everyone else in the room cringe.

Regardless, Nataku had never been more fascinated. "What can he do?" He knew that his father wanted people whom he deemed 'talented.' Besides being an anomaly, this child must possess some other supernatural ability.

"Now, now," the other male scientist reprimanded. "You know that information is for your father only. We'd all get fired if he found you down here."

"He's not like the other people," the female scientist continued, leading the boy to the doors. "You can't play with him; he has to be stabilized before anything else." With that, she pushed Nataku out the door and it closed with a resounding slam.

-+-

-Two Months Later-

All had been silent in the research department. Nataku saw evidence of this etched onto his father's face every night at the dinner table. Nothing seemed to be working with the new subject and Nataku knew what happened if he father didn't get results. That poor creature would be put down. Even at his young age, the boy had seen it ordered far more times than he would have liked to think about.

One particular night, Li stalked off to his office after eating, leaving Nataku alone at the other end of the table. The boy sighed and absentmindedly played with a strand of hair on the side of his head, thoughts turning to the strange boy.

It wasn't fair that he ended up that way, in Nataku's opinion. Some horrible person had probably abandoned him as a child, forcing him to grow up in the wild. He felt a building rage at such a person, which made an idea form in his head.

'_Those scientists don't know what they're talking about_,' he thought. '_You can tame wild animals by being nice to them, why not a wild person?_' This made perfect sense to him and he made up his mind to go back down to the research center at once.

The lab was closed for the night and Nataku, due to years of experience, easily evaded the night guard. He could hear the rustling of several subjects in their holding cells and felt eyes upon him, including the nagging sensation that let him know one of the subjects way in the back of the room was reading his thoughts, but shoved it all away as he continued.

1350 was asleep in his cell, curled up in the corner. As Nataku approached, a golden eye slid open and the subject sniffed the air warily. One thing had changed since the boy saw him last: standing out in the darkness was the golden glow of a diadem encircling his forehead. The spiky brown hair buried most of it, but it was still shiny enough to attract attention.

"Hey," Nataku called softly, making the subject perk up. "Remember me? I was here the day you were brought in. My name's Nataku."

The subject cautiously approached the edge of the cage. "Na…taku?"

'_His voice sounds clogged, as if he hasn't spoken in years... That actually might be true.' _The older boy nodded, letting a smile settle slowly on his face. "You seem a lot more calm now than when you got here. Did they give you medicine? What happened to you?"

"I-I dunno." The subject looked puzzled that someone was actually talking to him like a human being. "I jus' woke up an'… I was all alone an'… now I'm here." He shrugged, as if this wasn't something to be concerned with. "W-why 're you … in 'ere?"

Nataku laughed. "Cause I want to be. My dad owns all of this, so I come down here to play."

"Play?" The other looked stunned. "But it… smells funny down 'ere an'… people scream."

"Sometimes I find new friends to play with," Nataku answered, He smiled again toward the other boy. "What's your name? I think calling you a number is stupid."

The subject blinked. "G-Goku. Son Goku 's my name… I don' 'member much else." He looked as though something was eating away at him. "Where's…" He stopped, fumbled over a few syllables, and gave up. "Someone… Someone's missin'."

"Don't worry about it," Nataku reassured. "It'll come back eventually. How about you just play with me until your memory comes back?"

Goku tried to smile, but it was shaky. "Y-yeah, m'kay. You seem a-a'right."

-+-

The scientists were amazed over the next few weeks. The diadem had started working; it used a series of short electrical bursts to help the subject's nerves in his brain start working again, since many had been damaged due to his berserker capabilities. Slowly, it was helping a lost yet sane human boy emerge from the shell of a monster. Nataku insisted on working with him, helping him relearn things like how to read and letting him exercise.

In another drastic contrast, "Goku," as Nataku called him, behaved himself in all of his tests, as long as the other boy could come play with him afterwards. Beyond his chaotic other self, he still wasn't showing any signs that he possessed the potential Li believed him to have, which only caused him to be subjected to more experiments.

No matter how painful the tests, or how alone he felt, he clung to the knowledge that the young heir would come and free him eventually. Finally, one day, he was allowed to play outside with Nataku for the first time since they'd met.

"Isn't the weather beautiful, Goku?" Nataku was sitting down picking flowers, teaching the wild boy how to form them into a necklace. He placed it around Goku's neck and it made both of them smile widely.

"This is great. I never thought I'd get to go outside."

"Hey, Goku?" Nataku tilted his head to one side; as if he wasn't sure of what he was about to ask. "What's that thing on your head for?"

"What thing?" Goku's fingers reached up and ran across the faded gold of the diadem. "Oh, I dunno. It makes things not foggy, I guess."

"What happens if you take it off?" Nataku was leaning forward hesitantly.

Goku's stomach suddenly dropped. "I don't think that's a good idea..." But it was too late. Nataku's fingers latched on to the underside of the ornament and tugged it off. Goku's vision went white.

His memory once again disappeared under what felt like thick clouds. Little things broke through here and there: what sounded like Nataku screaming, a deep laugh that sounded like a perverse version of his own, and the deep, overpowering scent of blood.

He cried and cried and grasped at a light just beyond his reach, but three men turned their backs on him and walked away.

-+-

When Goku awoke, the field of flowers was gone. He reached a tentative hand up to his forehead and felt the comforting coolness of the diadem. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember exactly what had happened, but came up blank. It was as if his memory had been erased.

He opened his eyes after the memory failed to return, but didn't see Nataku anywhere. He got a gnawing feeling in his chest, desperately wondering if his new friend was okay, though he didn't know why Nataku shouldn't be well. Goku noticed that his new surroundings were eerily quiet.

He saw bars, only they were made of stone. They were far enough apart that he could reach a hand out, but nowhere near big enough to fit his entire body through. A ball and chain was attached to his left ankle, its weight so much that he could barely drag himself around the enclosed space. He saw bright sunlight streaming from the bars that reminded him of someone, but he didn't know who.

_"Are you crying again?" A blond man patted his head gently; the boy snuggled into a long leg, feeling warm and secure despite his tears. "If it matters so much, I'll give you a name. How's 'Son Goku?'"_

"_Hey now, chibi, you better be careful." A man dressed all in black lifted the boy into his arms. Goku was eye to eye with a skull symbol on the man's shirt, but it didn't scare him. He giggled, clutched the shirt in his tiny hands, and listened. "It's dangerous out there. Stick by me, ok?"_

"_How about a different story for tonight?" A brunette with gentle eyes set Goku on his lap, opening a huge book in front of both of them. Goku pointed to the pictures he liked, waiting for the other man's lips to curve upward in approval. "That's right. You're so smart, little one."_

Goku stretched. He tried with all he had, but he couldn't reach the sunlight.

He lost track of time in this new prison. He got two meals a day, but he never saw anyone coming to give them to him, not even a hand sliding it into his cage. Yes, it was a cage. A prison cell would've at least had a bed, not hard ground to sleep on. He passed day after day just waiting.

'_Someone, please. Help me_.'

One day, Goku was wondering if he should bother to rouse himself from sleep when he heard the first noise since he'd arrived at this place. Breaking the silence was a chirp. Then another one. Soon, he placed the sound to a small yellow bird sitting outside of his cage. He sat up and stared at the thing, trying to figure out if it was real, or just something his mind had made up in the insanity of the solitude.

No, the bird was real. It was small enough to hop inside his cage and after doing so, looked up at him quizzically. He reached out a trembling hand to it, not sure whether he was more afraid of it biting him, or of him killing it. The bird hopped up onto his finger, completely unafraid. Goku smiled for the first time in what felt like ages.

The bird came back every day and he saved breadcrumbs from his meals to feed to it. The bird seemed to be the only thing assuring him that he was still alive – still sane. As strange as it sounded, Goku considered the bird his friend, confident that, were the bird capable of thinking deeply, it would feel the same.

One morning, he awoke to find the sunlight shining through the bars yet again and eagerly awaited his little friend. But something small and yellow lying outside the bars caught his attention. It was the bird, stiff and unmoving just a few feet away with its feet curled up against its chest. Goku knew immediately that it had died.

His screams were lost in the overwhelming silence.

Notes:

¹In the original Journey to the West legend, Sun Wu-kung's (Son Goku's) soul was numbered 1350. He erased his name from the book of souls, thus making himself immortal.

(During her beta, Shin-no-nekochan mentioned that she thought of the numbers 1-3-5-0 adding up to 9, which in Japanese is "ku," the same 9 used to represent Goku in fanfics. Interesting interpretation to me at least.)


	4. Gonou's Story

A/N: I realize this story hasn't been updated in about 3 months, so I apologize. I did lose a little inspiration, but I've finally gotten back on my feet. Hopefully, the second half of the story will be smoother from here on out. As always, I appreciate constructive criticism, but if there's a specific problem with my writing, tell me exactly what is wrong so that I can fix it. Conversely, if there's a concept you like, let me know and I'll use it more often. "Good!" or "This sux go die kthnx" don't exactly help me to become a better writer.

Part 4: Gonou's Story

-7 Years Ago, Xian, China-

In the late afternoon, a nun sat at her desk in the office of an orphanage. The setting summer sun came harshly through the windows and it seemed no matter how she turned the blinds, the light would find a way to sneak through and hit her eyes. Not to mention that the tiny office was getting unbearably warm on top of it all.

A soft knock echoed from out in the hallway, making the Sister lift her head up from the paper she was reviewing. "Come in." Her blue eyes shifted briefly to a slightly pained expression, almost like she was regretting what she was about to do, but she managed to turn them placid as a young brunet man entered.

"Gonou, thank you for coming to see me." The Sister always hated giving people bad news. This teenager in particular was one she was very concerned about.

The young man, Cho Gonou, sat on a plain wooden chair in front of the nun's desk. He leaned back, his posture completely casual. Intense emerald eyes were visible behind a thin pair of glasses while his face was set in a blank, indifferent look. "Does this meeting have anything to do with the sudden influx of new children?"

The nun sighed sympathetically; Gonou was all business as usual. "I'm afraid so, Gonou. As you've undoubtedly heard, the next town over had a terrible flood a few weeks ago. It destroyed the entire place; hundreds were killed. We took in at least twenty orphans, but there are even more who have no place to go."

"How does this involve me?" Gonou's tone was cold, direct. This was nothing new from when he'd first come to the orphanage as a child. At just five years old, he'd been separated from his parents and older sister and had closed himself off from the world. He spent all of his time reading or taking long walks. No matter how hard the other Sisters tried to bring him out of his shell or instill some form of religion in him, Gonou had always stubbornly kept to himself.

The Sister leaned back in her chair as well. She'd been rehearsing for this moment all day, knowing full well that Gonou would not respond in a manner befitting a boy his age. "You're 15 now, Gonou, and I know that you're not an adult yet, but you a**re **one of the oldest children here. All of the new children are 10 or younger… there's no way they'd be able to make it on their own. You, however…"

"Why didn't you just say that in the first place?" The green eyes looked like they were frozen over and the Sister gasped in spite of herself. "You want me to leave. I wouldn't have been offended if you'd just said that." Gonou sat up straight, staring the older woman down. "Actually, I've wanted to leave for years, but I guess I don't have to wait until I'm 18 anymore."

"Gonou…" The Sister knew that the conversation would hurt Gonou, but she hadn't expected his comments to hurt her in return. "I hesitated in telling you because I was worried about how you would survive on your own. I know you're intelligent, Gonou – extremely so – but please don't think I'm kicking you out without any support. You are always welcome to seek aid from the church…"

"I don't need the church," Gonou replied, casting off her offer with a flick of his wrist. He stood up and leaned on her desk. "God has never done anything for me."

The Sister closed her eyes, trying to ignore the pain those words caused and failing. "I wish you wouldn't say that, Gonou. God **does** care for you, whether you feel His presence or not."

Gonou was already heading for the door. "If that were the case, I'd be with my family right now, wouldn't I?" He didn't wait for her to respond, slamming the door shut as he walked out. The Sister remained seated, willing herself not to cry.

-+-

Gonou looked through the room he shared with two other teenagers, somehow not surprised that everything had already been packed. All of his personal items fit into one suitcase and one small bag. It only served to remind him of how solitary he truly was.

Of the few sentimental items he owned, two lay on the bed still waiting to be thrown in with his clothing and bath things. One was a copy of his favorite book, 'Journey to the West,' and the other was a small pocket watch he'd brought to the orphanage as a child. It had long since stopped working, but he enjoyed the antique look and how the Roman numerals around the edges still shone after all this time. He took one last glance at it and placed it in the suitcase, which he then shut and latched.

One of the other boys watched him from the door with intense brown eyes. "Gonou, where're you going?" He offered the teenager a hopeful smile. "Are you getting adopted?"

Gonou's green eyes were still frozen over. "I'm leaving and going to live on my own. They might ask you to do the same soon." Were he the smiling type, he might have delighted at the rate with which the boy's confidence shattered into worry. '_No matter_.' "I've wanted to live by myself for some time. It's not a problem."

"But won't it be… lonely?"

Gonou snorted and walked past the boy, out the door. '_Lonely? How do I know what loneliness is if I've never had companionship?_'

"Going somewhere?" This time, there was a girl blocking his path as he tried to get down the hallway. She was about his same age, leaning against the wall with an amused look.

He knew who she was right away by the long brown braid that reached down to the middle of her back. "Get out of my way, Kanan." Kanan and Gonou had entered the orphanage around the same time; the two even had the same family name – but then, so did about a dozen other children.

Kanan was one of the few people in this place, aside from the Sisters, who bothered to talk to him. The girl seemed hell-bent on getting him to open up to her, at any rate, and so he'd never really been sure of how to act around her.

"Look, I'm not happy they're kicking me out, either, but at least I can stop and chat if someone wants me to."

Gonou, on his way to the stairs, paused for a minute to contemplate her words. "Wait… they're asking you to leave, too?" '_Maybe I'm not the only one_.'

He immediately tried to convince himself that he didn't care about being understood or being in the same predicament as someone else, but it was as if the burden he had taken on was suddenly being shared. Gonou didn't like the idea of associating his problems with anyone else.

Kanan shrugged. "Anyone 15 or older, right? That would be me." She moved to stand right in front of Gonou. "Though I'm not in quite as much of a hurry as you seem to be. Do you even know where you're going to stay? Do you have any money on you? Or are you trying to make a statement?"

Gonou bit his lip, trying to deny that she may have been correct. Just how **was** he supposed to make it in the world on his own? It probably wasn't going to be as easy as just walking down the street and having someone offer him a place to live.

He coughed. "Well, since **you** seem to know so much… What do you recommend I do?" He said this with the highest degree of sarcasm possible, but that just made Kanan roll her eyes.

"You're even more hopeless than I thought," she replied, shaking her head and making her braid move. "Settle down and the two of us will figure something out."

-+-

Kanan was remarkably resourceful, he found out. She had been looking into monetary aid sources, local low-rent housing, and searching for a job since the Sisters had spoken with her. Since the orphanage wasn't giving them a set deadline, just a 'strong recommendation,' she was using all the time she had to her advantage.

Gonou never unpacked his suitcase. He figured he might as well go along with the 'making a statement' theory.

She was slightly older than he was, which at 16 meant that she could apply for most minimum wage jobs. Part-time salary wasn't about to cover things like rent and utilities, so she came to Gonou one afternoon with an interesting proposition.

"We should live together."

He looked up from the book he'd been reading, eyes not visible due to the glare of his glasses. "Say that again?"

Kanan sat down in the chair next to him, even though they were the only ones in the library room and there were plenty of other spaces. Gonou's personal bubble was being infiltrated and that ate at him, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to say anything.

"Think about it," she said, leaning back in the chair and focusing on the ceiling. "Neither of us can afford to live on our own, but together, we just might have a shot. It won't be luxurious by any means, but I bet it'll be enough to live on if we both work." She sat up straight and looked over at him. "What do you say?"

Gonou abruptly closed his book. This was far beyond invasion of personal space and he wasn't about to take that from her. "Thank you, but I'm not interested." He stood up and made his way to the door.

After the boy exited, Kanan sighed, shoulders slumping. "You'd think I just asked him to marry me or something."

-+-

Two days after the conversation in the library room, a thick envelope arrived at the orphanage bearing Gonou's name. Even though a majority of the other children never talked to the boy, they all crowded around to see what was going on.

The head Sister read the letter aloud, much to the teen's dismay. " 'Mr. Cho Gonou,

'We are extremely impressed with your current academic record and, due to your outstanding performance, are inviting you to begin school with us during the Fall Semester at Fu-ling Academy in Central Xian (1) with tuition paid in full. The Academy is focused on transforming the lives of students and preparing them to become highly skilled adults. We accept only the best and brightest to study with our world-class faculty and encourage you to return the enclosed information packet to us as soon as possible so as to ensure your place in next year's class."

After the torture of having to endure the compliments and awe of the other children, Gonou could finally read his letter in peace. He noted interestingly enough that a form was provided for housing, which was near the academy.

"So, congratulations, Mr. Genius." Kanan was standing right behind him, which made him jump in spite of himself.

Gonou attempted to calmly set the letter down on the nightstand next to his bed. "I don't recall giving you permission to enter my room."

Kanan laughed. "I didn't know I needed permission." She slid around to his side, studying him. "You just got accepted to one of the most prestigious schools in Xian and you're acting like your dog just died. At least smile. You **are** capable of that, aren't you?"

He answered in a way that he felt was quite honest. "No. All of this is just a hollow gesture. What good is intelligence in such a world? You're only going to die one day anyway."

Kanan sighed, leaning back and moving to the doorframe. "Sometimes, I don't know why I even bother with you. I hear you talk all the time about loneliness or whatever, but yet, when someone tries to get you to open up, you push them away. Sounds like your only pleasure in life is making yourself miserable."

Gonou stopped for a moment, not sure what to say to that.

Kanan didn't wait for him to answer. "Does it say anything in there about housing? Now that you don't have to worry about paying for school, that's one less expense, but I bet if we roomed together we'd definitely be able to make ends me."

Gonou was still trying to work everything out in his head. She wanted them to live together. He'd been accepted to this school. He'd be leaving the orphanage with a place to go. He could be someone. Yet, he felt it was impossible to shake the dark cloud hanging over him.

'_She thinks that I just want to be miserable, _' Gonou thought as Kanan's words floated around in his mind. '_Yes,_' he thought. '_I am miserable. I thought I deserved it._'

Gonou wondered who had decided that he deserved to feel a certain way. '_God? Most certainly not_,' he reasoned.

"Kanan," he said, noticing that the girl had moved to the doorway. She turned around and he looked her straight in the eye.

"I'll think about it," he attempted offhandedly.

Gonou realized then that he actually liked it when Kanan smiled.

-+-

A full six months after Gonou had received his letter, he was heading out to attend Fall Semester at the Academy. Just a week prior to school starting, he and Kanan had settled into a house that had been converted into an apartment. It was within walking distance of the single enormous school building. Despite the fact that Gonou didn't usually get attached to material things, he found himself liking the quaint little place.

There were two bedrooms, a living room, a bathroom, and a kitchen, all contained on the second story. The landlady, who lived in the bottom section of the house, had been slightly anxious about renting the place to two teenagers, but decided upon meeting both in person that they were "unbelievably mature" for their age and, with the help of the Church, were able to start making payments on the place.

The Academy was a brand-new experience for Gonou in and of itself. He had been used to the other children at the orphanage being around him constantly, both in and out of class. Many of the children refused to learn or complained about studying. Gonou had always found it easy to think himself superior to them. It was quite another story to interact with the other students now that they were his "peers".

Fu-ling was highly competitive, exactly as the acceptance letter had claimed. Gonou had to work harder in order to remain at the top of his class and found that he almost enjoyed the challenge. Many of the teachers were foreign or had traveled abroad extensively and actively engaged their students in debate about current events. The teen's head spun, finally being able to absorb all the knowledge he'd desperately craved in his childhood and find others with whom he could identify.

When he finally returned to his senses after the fourth day in a row of gushing about the school to Kanan, it hit him that he was actually satisfied with his new life.

It was something he hadn't experienced much at all so far and he mentioned it to Kanan, in between ramblings about a particular lecture a professor had given that day and a lively dialog on contemporary politics that they'd had in class.

The girl had just laughed and called him a sponge: extremely absorbent of materials around him and finally being placed into the ocean for the first time instead of a bucket. Her metaphor had been convoluted and he was slightly annoyed with it, but he was too pleased with his progress to give it much thought.

Gonou had been attending the school for two months before stopping to think about how his roommate was really faring. Kanan had been working at a low paying entry-level job or two this whole time, but didn't have any opportunity to further her own education beyond what she'd received at the orphanage.

There was one incident in particular where Gonou felt a pang of guilt as she attempted to clean up the house even after a long day working, while he bent over his books for an entire evening yet again. He stopped a few times and began to help her, even though she insisted that his studies were the most important thing. He knew that he didn't have to worry about grades, at any rate. He was consistently in the top five on the tests he took and never failed once to turn in assignments and papers. Midterms were easy compared to handling adult duties like she was trying to do.

"You really don't have to help me," Kanan insisted for the twentieth time as Gonou efficiently swept up the kitchen area. She had resorted to washing some dishes, but let out a sigh when Gonou started drying them.

"Of course I do," he replied, focusing on the plates before him. "You do everything around here. I'm just going to school, but you're worrying about all of the other things."

"I don't mind worrying." Kanan's voice dropped to a whisper and Gonou stopped mid-motion, dish in one hand and towel in the other. "I want things to go well for you. You're enjoying school so much and finally getting to do something that makes you happy. I… I like seeing you happy, Gonou."

Gonou felt like he was watching a movie. He didn't even notice as he set the items down on the counter and gave Kanan's hand a reassuring squeeze. "I think perhaps… we should **both** be happy."

Kanan blushed and said nothing.

-+-

Kanan had admitted early on in the time they began living together that, unlike Gonou, she had agreed with most of the teachings of the Church, but not all; she was willing to talk theology with him and saw his point on many of his grievances. Despite that, she did always enjoy the holidays and various festivals.

Which was why Gonou was frantically searching for a Christmas present the night before, cursing himself for raiding the Academy's library right before Winter Break and burying himself in books – history, philosophy, classic literature, anything just to be able to devour the knowledge it contained – for **weeks** when he could've been out shopping.

Eventually, after much internal agonizing on his part, he settled on a rather expensive camera. It was a brand-new model in sleek black. Kanan loved the outdoors and had been looking forward to a garden once the weather became nicer in the spring. Gonou had figured she'd enjoy taking her own photos of nature as well and paid for the present. This purchase used up almost all of the funds he'd been saving from a few odd jobs he'd been doing on the side.

That night, they exchanged their gifts. Gonou had been somewhat surprised to receive something from Kanan: a leather-bound special edition of his beloved 'Journey to the West' – his former copy had fallen to pieces months ago – but more surprised to see her reaction to the gift he gave her.

"Gonou," she breathed, holding up the camera to the light, inspecting it from every angle. "This is perfect. Now I can finally have a picture of you!"

"Of me?"

"Of course!" Kanan grinned and scooted closer. "I want that to be the first picture on this roll of film. You have to smile, too, Gonou, or I'll keep taking pictures until you do."

He shied away. "I don't really care for pictures…"

"So?" Kanan had already loaded the film and was testing the zoom on the device. "I want to have a copy of this memory. I want to look back and see how we used to be."

Gonou caved. He couldn't resist her infectiously happy attitude and offered a soft smile of his own for the camera. She situated herself against his chest and held out her arm so both of them were in the frame. One click later, both had a feeling it had turned out perfect.

They remained in that position for a little while, Gonou feeling oddly comfortable. Kanan continued to lean against him and he could tell she was becoming more relaxed. They looked at the camera resting in Kanan's lap, neither wanting to break the silence.

Finally, Kanan spoke up. "Thank you for this," she said, gesturing to the tiny little tree they'd propped up in the living room, along with a few garlands. "I know it's a lot to ask for someone who doesn't really like this sort of thing—"

"It makes you happy," Gonou cut in. He glanced down at the worn carpet. "I like seeing you happy."

Kanan laughed softly. "Thank you." At that, she sat up a bit, so that they were both at eye level with each other. "I'm glad that you're finally starting to enjoy life. It's much more fun with another person."

Gonou was trying to think of something to say in response when Kanan shifted up into a kneeling position, looking down at him and catching his full attention. Her right hand drifted up to his cheek while her other hand settled on his shoulder as she pulled him in for a gentle kiss. Stunned, Gonou could only watch, eyes wide, until he finally regained control over his senses and pulled back, gaping. Before he could say anything, Kanan put a bit more weight on his shoulder and recaptured his lips, effectively silencing him.

Gonou was speechless when she released him, mouth opening and closing a few times, but with too many thoughts running through his head to form a coherent sentence.

Kanan seemed to realize how forward she had been and blushed as she pulled away from him. "Gonou, I'm so—" she started, playing with her hands, which she'd placed in her lap. "I don't know what—"

Before she could try to explain, it was Gonou's turn to surprise her. He took her hands into his and brought them to his lips, brushing them against her hands as gently as he possibly could. As she was still shocked herself, he put his own right hand on her cheek and drew her in for a kiss. He tried his best to copy what she'd done to him and was pleased with the results.

Kanan was blushing slightly and Gonou touched her cheek as delicately as possible, moving his hand up to smooth back a strand of her hair that had come out of her braid. He had never even considered a relationship with anyone before, but now he couldn't even imagine being with anyone besides Kanan. If it hadn't been for her…

"Gonou…"

He stopped her before she could say whatever she had been thinking and kissed her again while gently pulling her down to lay next to him on the floor. Things had finally taken a turn for the better in his life and as Gonou continued to kiss her, he decided that he wouldn't have it any other way.

Notes:

(1) Fu-ling is the mountain that Pa Chieh (Hakkai) comes from in the original Journey to the West novels. Xian is the present-day name for Chang'An.


End file.
